Movie Night VI: Direct to DVD

[unrecovered]

Who| Wash and anyone who wants to join
What| Movie night!
Where| The same lounge it's always in
When| After Time Ripples, Mind Slayer, and Wash Dies At The End
Warnings/Notes| Yet another classic!

It's been an odd few weeks, to say the least. Wash barely waits to be out of the hospital before he heads to the lounge to set up a movie night. He's had a request for a classic, and he'd managed to get in an order for the film before everything had gone batshit insane, so it's already arrived and he's just about ready to go.

The usual snacks and drinks are set up, along with a few mugs and goblets that are a little closer to theme. There's also the usual sofas and couches, draped with blankets and with bean bag chairs strewn around around the room. The usual sign hangs outside the door, with the movie's MPAA rating and a brief summary of the movie's plot, along with the usual note: Movie night is neutral territory.

The movie tonight, of course, is The Princess Bride.

Comments

[goddamngrenades]

Plate of snacks? Check. Drinks? Also check. Somewhere to sit- normally he'd slump by Sam and that's...complicated but the opportunity is here to talk about it. Get that shit over with and. Handle the thing like grown ass men. He's walking to the sofa from the snack table, coming up behind Sam and there is the thought that he could just. Say hay, explain where he's coming from and...things'll be fine.

Or.

Alternatively.

He could refuse to make a big deal out of it. Honestly? He's in favor of not making a thing of it. He decided they'd be friends, friends they were. If he decides they're boyfriends now- boyfriends they'll be and none of that weird stilted bullshit that usually happens will happen and they can move on with their lives. Okay. It's stupid logic, Delta's trying to offer alternatives but nope- swinging around the arm of the sofa and settling into Locus' lap is the order of the day. "Hey babe."

Like this is a thing they do. Like this is how they are- and it could be. It is. Right now, it is how they are and Sam's just gonna have to catch up. Arm hooked around Locus' shoulders he leans in, brushing his lips against his cheek. "You ever seen this one?"

[agnominal]

The result is Locus immediately bristling, his whole frame going tense as York suddenly flops down across him and...kisses his cheek?

What.

Is going on.

Whatever he'd been planning to say goes directly out of the window, and his mouth snaps shut as he stares at York, trying to gauge where this is coming from. Did he miss something? He's missed something, hasn't he?

[goddamngrenades]

No need to make a thing of it. They're- whatever they are- now. End of story. York settles against Sam's chest, holding up some kind of cheese stuffed bread or another because handfeeding is also a thing. Come on, Sam, have a bite.

"Most people have heard it quoted even if they haven't seen it-" Like the staring isn't happening. Get with the program, Locus. Isn't this what you wanted?

[agnominal]

Is it? He doesn't really know what to make of it. This is being thrown in the deep end, head-first, and trying to find your way back to the surface in the hopes of staying afloat, and he's really not sure what he should be doing.

Finally, after a long, awkward stretch of silence, his brow raises. "What are you doing?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Getting comfortable for the movie?" Locus is making a thing of this. Shit. He should've known his luck wouldn't hold out. Some nervousness slips in around his eyes and, shit, this is easy more public than previously anticipated.

"I thought..." okay. Mixed signals are a fucking thing, apparently and he needs to bail. Like. Right now. "You want a cider? I'll grab you a cider-"

[agnominal]

The words are deliberate. Quiet, yes, because he isn't trying to make a scene here, but there is a lot he doesn't understand. "I want to know what is going on."

The last time they'd spoken, he'd tried getting closer, and York had frozen like a deer in the headlights. That had seemed a no-go, as clear a sign as he needed to step back and away from the situation. And now, York is lounging in his lap, kissing him on the cheek like it's nothing at all...

Is that what he thinks he wants?

[unrecovered]

Wash had been keeping an eye on Locus ever since he'd walked in. He'd seen Locus settle on the couch, watched York head for him, and figured that either they'd already talked or they planned to hash it out now and gone back to rearranging the snack table to make more room.

He'd turned back around ten seconds later to find York sprawled in Locus' lap and Locus looking like a startled cat, and he knows exactly who to blame.

He crosses the room at a brisk, purposeful walk, not stopping or even slowing down as he grabs York's upper arm and yanks him along. "I'm borrowing this," is the abrupt explanation he tosses over his shoulder at Locus, and he doesn't stop until he's hauled York out into the hallway and pushed him up against the wall.

"What," he starts, voice quiet and intense, "The fuck. Do you think you're doing?"

[goddamngrenades]

"We're..." this is what he wanted, right? To be like this? To be more than friends? This is what you do, he's reasonably certain and good he has never missed having game add much as he does now. Thankfully his escape is aided by wash-

It's a relief up until it abruptly isn't. Hello wall, hello wash, hello feeling five kinds of stupid. "Doing what he wants? Except I misjudged everything, apparently. Story of my fucking life right there,"

[unrecovered]

Judging from the look on Locus' face, this whole affair had been a surprise to him, which means that either their talk had been misinterpreted or they hadn't talked at all and York had just made assumptions. "Did you ask him what he wants, or did you just assume?"

[goddamngrenades]

"Assumptions were made." He slumps against the wall, grimacing. He used to be good at this shit. What the he'll happened? First matter. "Won't happen again."

Whatever conclusion he'd come to had been five kinds of wrong, again. Story of his life. "I'll get."

Because the only recourse now is to bail. Locus needs this space more than he does; he can hang back at his habitat or do monitor duty or- anything but go back in that room m

[unrecovered]

Uh-huh. That's what he'd thought.

Wash pushes York back against the wall again, because he is not bailing on the situation if Wash has anything to say about it. "Like hell you are. You're going to walk back in there, sit next to Locus - not on him, next to him - apologize for making assumptions, and then fucking talk to him like I've been telling you to do for days!"

He's keeping the volume down, which means the intensity has gone up. Wash is not taking no for an answer at this point.

[goddamngrenades]

"Why in the fuck are you so invested?!" He's allowed to be done, isn't he? He's allowed to try and save face our dignity or what the fuck ever it is that had his stomach clenching at the idea of doing this fucking dance all over again.

"Why do you get to want to be done with your shit, but not me? I'm done. Let me be done." Not a damn thing is gonna be gained by throwing himself in the altar of bad choices yet again.

[unrecovered]

"Because I'm tired of seeing my friends get fucked up over stupid, easily fixed bad decisions, and I've already dealt with my shit." Not that anyone knows about the conversation he and Chief had, but that'll get out eventually. He has other priorities right now. "Now it's your turn."

[goddamngrenades]

"Choosing to not get involved isn't stupid, it's self preservation." He's not entirely worried about Locus alone in this particular kerfuffle. "Choosing to walk away is dealing with it. This is me walking away-"

Or. Well. It would be if Wash didn't have him pinned and that is easily fixable in five or six ways that'd ensure they never fucking talk again and as annoyed as he is right now? Not the desired end goal. "...This is me trying to walk away. Let me go."

[unrecovered]

"Self-preservation at the cost of what, Locus' stability?" It's a low blow, but that's where they are right now. "You're not walking away - you're running. You walked in, made an assumption, fucked up, and now you want to run away from the consequences and leave Locus to figure shit out on his own? Like hell. You're going to go back in there and deal with the mess you made like a goddamn adult, not because I'm telling you to, but because Locus is your friend and he deserves better from you."

[goddamngrenades]

That earns a full body flinch. It's- well, okay, it's not untrue. Attempting to detach himself from the situation at all at this point is not only impossible but real fucking stupid. Combined with a neat little layout of how he used to operate (still, apparently, does operate) like agent Fuck Truck York (the guy he wants not to be more than anything)-

Yeah that. That's a fucking thing.

"...then this is me trying to walk back in- let me go?" Because as much as he loves this talk (he doesn't) He's not about to push Wash away, literally or figuratively.

[unrecovered]

Well. That looked painful.

Evidently it was effective, though, so. Worth it, at least for now. Wash drops his grip on York and steps aside, putting himself between York and escape and leaving York an easy path back into the lounge. He makes an after you gesture and waits.

[goddamngrenades]

Right.

Time to face the music. Or. Whatever. Taylor scrubs a hand through his hair and grumbles something along the lines of 'I am a god damned moron' under his breath before he pushes away from the wall. Right. Walking in like nothing happened isn't easy but hey. He can swing it.

Sitting next to Locus with an extra few inches of breathing room is also doable. Talking? Not so much.

"So...I made an assumption and acted like a jackass. Won't happen again." Well, it might, but he'll try. "We cool?"

[unrecovered]

Wash follows York in, comes close enough to hear what York is saying, and...he's treating the start of a conversation like it's the end of a conversation. Looks like someone didn't quite get the memo.

So Wash walks behind the couch, obviously heading to the snack table to finish up his interrupted work, and casually but purposefully whacks the back of York's head with the flat of his hand along the way. Shape up, asshole.

[agnominal]

Locus is still unclear as to what's happening. He's seen glimpses from a distance, and he definitely notices when Wash gives York a good whack across the back of the head, but for the most part? He just looks annoyed. Frustrated. Disappointed, maybe? There are traces of each, none really stronger than the others.

"I don't know. Are we?" Those gray-green eyes focus on York where he's slouched, looking like a reprimanded schoolboy.

[goddamngrenades]

"Fucked if I know." When in doubt: Be honest. Honestly he has no goddamn idea where they stand and is just as lost as he had been when Locus leaned in all intent 'oh no wait something is in your hair' some time ago. It's.

Uncomfortable. Taylor tends to do what he can to avoid being uncomfortable, it's not his bag, could they not? They should not. "I was trying to skip the awkward shit and in doing so- made shit more awkward."

Yay Agent York. Jazzhands. He legit does jazzhands weakly before letting them flop to his lap.

[agnominal]

"So you were just trying to smooth things over."

That's...vaguely disappointing, in a way. Maybe he's reading it wrong, but if it's anything like York's normal behavior, it's akin to the way he smiles and jokes to cover up discomfort or sadness. Loneliness. Anything that bothers him.

This bothers him. He wouldn't be uncomfortable otherwise.

[goddamngrenades]

"Uh. Yeah? Yeah. I don't like feeling like I've made you uncomfortable or upset or. Anything." And he had, has, has been for some time apparently. "And I upset you that day at my place."

And he hates that he did and hates that now all these thoughts are swirling and this is why he wanted to avoid talking. Shit still feels awkward and stilted.

[agnominal]

"You didn't."

Locus let out a breath, some of the tension in his shoulders loosening. Well, now that he knows that and he's been let down as much as he's going to be, it's easier to explain. There's no pressure involved since, well. York said it himself. It had all been to make things less awkward.

If he wants things to be as they were, they can do that. Washington had been wrong, after all.

"I...assumed too much. After what happened on the beach. It was my fault."

[goddamngrenades]

"And I made assumptions...here. Just now." Clearly. Wait, this seems a little.

Flipped around?

Delta's going nuts in the back of his head at any rate and he's trying to be better about listening to him when things get murky. "What did you think I was doing?"